


Refrain

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Caretaking, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Forbidden Love, Guilt, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Repression, Shame/Comfort, The nephew is seventeen, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23503783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: At thirteen Lucas was still puppyish enough to be called cute. At seventeen, he’s –Rob’s mind throws up the word gorgeous. Swallowing, he glances at the teen, makes himself glance away and mentally shrug. So his nephew’s growing up. Everyone does.There shouldn’t be anything to it. It shouldn’t feel like during the years Rob’s been off overseas for his job, something fundamental has changed.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Teen Kicked Out By His Parents For Being Gay/His Handsome Uncle That Takes Him In
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	Refrain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Origen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origen/gifts).



> A treat for Origen that grew a bit more plot than expected XD
> 
> CNTW overall, but non-detailed mentions of background homophobia and bad / absent parenting.

“Hey Uncle Rob,” Lucas pauses in the doorway to the sitting room fresh out of the shower, damp dark hair feathering over his forehead. Taller and broader across the shoulders than Rob remembers him from four years ago, but still swimming a little in the old button-down shirt and sweatpants Rob’s lent him.

At thirteen Lucas was still puppyish enough to be called cute. At seventeen, he’s –

Rob’s mind throws up the word _gorgeous_. Swallowing, he glances at the teen, makes himself glance away and mentally shrug. So his nephew’s growing up. Everyone does.

There shouldn’t be anything to it. It shouldn’t feel like during the years Rob’s been off overseas for his job, something fundamental has changed.

“Hey Lucas,” Focusing on the milk that’s just getting to the right heat over in the kitchenette, Rob sets out a mug and turns off the stove, summoning up a smile for his nephew when he looks at him again, more able to control himself now, “Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lucas _looks_ better, some of the awful greyness of shock washed from his skin along with the chill from trekking just about across the whole damn city late at the night in the rain – because _of_ _course_ Rob’s asshole brother couldn’t wait until morning to throw a homophobic fit and chuck Lucas out, and because _of course_ he couldn’t even let the teen take his phone or clothes or cash or anything more than the bag Lucas had hastily grabbed.

Rob’s already left Darren a chain of pissed off answerphone messages while Lucas was in the shower – he may hate to lose his temper generally, but this deserves it. He’s still tempted to haul his motorbike out of the communal garage and ride on over there right now, and bang on the asshole’s door for the whole neighbourhood to hear, but another look at Lucas dissuades it.

Rob’s nephew is more important – making sure Lucas is warmed up and as comfortable as he can be, and, with luck, able to get some food and drink in him and some amount of sleep.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” Lucas’ mouth quirks sideways as if he’s trying to smile and almost managing it, as Rob finishes preparing the hot chocolate.

“Oh what, you mean you don’t want marshmallows?” Rob well remembers an eight-year-old Lucas’ obsession with the things, “Lucky for me then, I guess.”

“I didn’t say that!” Lucas is across the room and in the kitchenette in a moment, reaching for the packet as Rob threatens to deposit the contents in his own mug, startling the older man into nearly dropping the things.

He’s suddenly so close Rob can smell his hair. Rob’s own shampoo, yeah, but underneath it there’s something that’s indescribably _Lucas_.

“Well then,” is the best he can come up with as he passes the marshmallows over, fingers feeling numb, breath catching a little in his chest. Of all things to notice –

Lucas is now tall, nearly but not quite as tall as him. That’s something else Rob can’t help noticing.

“Although as someone so nearly an adult –” The words almost catch in his throat. _Nearly_ an adult. Seventeen. Not actually an adult yet. Rob forges on, “I’m guessing you don’t want any of these.”

He whips out the plateful of peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches he’d hidden in an overhead cupboard – a combination that just about broke Rob’s brain the first time his then five year old nephew convinced him to try it, and one he’s never been able to bring himself to eat, especially as Lucas has a habit of inserting potato chips into the mess of oozing filling.

But the way Lucas’ face lights up now makes Rob forget any of that, especially when Rob fishes in a different cupboard and deposits a bag of chips on top of the stack of sandwiches.

“You _remembered_ ,” Lucas is breathing like this is some sort of revelation. The pure heartfelt appreciation in his expression is –

“How would I forget such horror,” Mentally shaking himself, Rob lightly teases as Lucas reaches out for the plate.

Their fingers brush.

“Um,” Twin spots of red colour Lucas’ cheeks and he clears his throat, seeming to abruptly remember he’s no longer five, visibly drawing his brief enthusiasm back, “Thanks, Uncle Rob.”

Withdrawing with the plate in hand, he goes to lean a hip on the counter as if going for a relaxed pose, but just succeeding in looking awkward instead.

“Go on, go drink it before it gets cold,” Pressing a mug of hot chocolate in his nephew’s other hand, Rob shoos him out of the kitchenette in the direction of the couch, “I’ll just – go get you some blankets.”

“Mm,” Folding his legs up under him on the couch, Lucas glances up at Rob through his lashes, then down again. Picking up a sandwich and biting into it with more restraint than his previous enthusiasm had implied, “Thanks. These are really good.”

There’s a little catch in his voice, the teen presumably remembering everything he’d been through.

“You’re welcome,” Rob’s voice comes out scratchy likewise with all of the sympathy welling up for him. If only his own parents were still alive – they’d been nothing but supportive when he’d come out himself, and had had many a stern word for Darren when Rob’s younger brother had started spouting ugly slurs.

Damn, but Rob had thought Darren had been getting _better_. Had been trying to make an effort to reign himself in those four years ago; to be a better man and all that. Rob had hated to go off overseas purely because it meant leaving Lucas behind alone with Darren, given the teen’s mom basically lived out of her office, her attention forever only on her career.

If Cynthia had had a different opinion to Darren when he’d kicked their only child out, she hadn’t shared it.

Bitterly furious on Lucas’ behalf all over again, Rob stalks into his bedroom to dig blankets and a couple of spare pillows out of the closet, wincing guiltily when gaze lands on the bed.

He ought to offer it to Lucas. The mattress isn’t great – on Rob’s wage none of his belongings are great; the charity he’d been working overseas a labour of love rather than material reward – but it seems stingy to relegate the teen to the couch, particularly after the terrible evening Lucas has had.

But the thought of Lucas spread out in Rob’s bed, limbs flung out everywhere like when he was young –

He’s _still_ young. And he’s Rob’s nephew. Rob shouldn’t even be _beginning_ to consider such thoughts. He’s been alone too long, that’s all. He needs to get out more now he’s back in the country, re-establish connections, meet up with old friends. Maybe hook up with someone, if he can muster up the wherewithal. He’s always been a homebody – bars and clubs tend to have him overwhelmed.

“Damned idiot, that's what I am,” Sighing, Rob shoves his fingers through his auburn hair, stuffs the bedding under his arm and goes to offer to sleep on the couch.

Only to find Lucas asleep on it, flopped out all over every available space, empty mug and plate neatly stacked on the floor beside him and his – Rob’s – shirt rucked up so his belly’s on view.

It _should_ be adorable.

But there’s a line of dark hair there trailing down from Lucas’ navel to the waistband of the sweatpants riding low on his hips and ‘adorable’ isn’t the word for it. With the stubble Lucas hadn’t bothered to shave off darkening his cheeks and the serious expression he’s wearing in his sleep, he looks a good deal older than he truly is.

“Night, Uncle Rob,” Lucas stirs when Rob spreads a blanket out over him, another placed nearby with the pillows in case he wants it, and Rob steps back hastily before he can stop himself, as if he’s guilty of –

Nothing. There’s no way he would _ever_ take advantage of anyone sleeping, and certainly not –

Certainly not.

“Thanks again for everything,” Smiling a little, Lucas shifts onto his side under the blanket, words sleep-slurred, “You’re the best.”

“I –” He’s _not_. Rob is fast starting to suspect that, in a certain sense, he might actually be the worst. “Good night, Lucas. Sleep well.”

Before he can find out whether Lucas is still awake enough to answer him, he flees.

<>

Nothing happens that night, except Lucas has a nightmare. Having left his bedroom door ajar just in case of that very thing happening, Rob wakes him as carefully as possible and sits with him through the long hours, making him another hot chocolate and eventually playing video games together when Lucas professes no desire to go back to sleep.

He nods off over the console around five a.m., so Rob props a pillow under Lucas’ head and the blanket over the teen’s shoulders, and stumbles back to his cold bed for a few hours restless tossing and turning on his own part until he concedes defeat and gets back up.

Time passes fairly quickly after that, with Lucas denying any desire whatsoever to go back home or to speak to either parent, and Rob having a few more unanswered phone calls and then a face to face ‘chat’ with Darren and Cynthia that devolves into them reeling off insults that make Rob sorrier than ever for his four year absence.

He gives both of the pair a particularly emphatic piece of his mind, demands they allow Lucas to collect his phone and other belongings from the house, and picks them up on his nephew’s behalf when Lucas flatly refuses to set foot in the place.

Cynthia passes over the boxes with a frosty nod for her son where he waits on the other side of the road, her attention on the phone in her hand, and Rob somehow manages not to explode.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells Lucas afterwards, when they’ve got the boxes strapped onto the back of Rob’s motorbike and in the hired van Lucas is driving – scraping up a proud grin when Rob expresses his disbelief over his nephew possessing his license – and have hauled the lot into the tiny spare bedroom in Rob’s apartment, once they’ve cleared all his art things out to make room.

Lucas exclaiming enthusiastically over some of his uncle’s decidedly amateur paintings had been one of the more pleasantly embarrassing episodes Rob had suffered in recent memory. Then the teen had gone oddly shy, shuffling his feet and mumbling when Rob had pointed out the literal boxes of trophies now piled up against the walls.

Rob’s going to insist Lucas describe each and every win for him sometime, so he can let his nephew know in detail just how proud of him he is.

And not just because of the awards.

“You’re a good kid,” Rob tells him as they eat takeaway pizza after – Lucas’ choice – sitting up on the hills overlooking the city. The word choice a reminder to himself – _kid._ “You should take pride in your achievements.”

Hot cheeked, his eyes averted, Lucas stuffs his mouth full of pizza, lips and fingers shining with the grease and –

It’s not attractive. It shouldn’t be attractive. But with the evening breeze ruffling his dark hair and the city lights reflected in his equally dark eyes, there’s something about him Rob refuses to label as _compelling_.

<>

It takes them six months, in the end.

Rob gets into the swing of work in back in his home country, while Lucas carries on with school like nothing much has happened. Moves his weights into the sitting room, working out by the TV in the determination to broaden his shoulders while calling out the correct answers to all of the quiz shows, while Rob cooks in the kitchenette. Tussling with his uncle over the cleaning up after, until Lucas breaks off unexpectedly after a noogie, red-faced. Teasing Rob about his painting until Rob insists Lucas create something himself, at which point paint ends up perhaps inevitably streaked over both of their hands and faces and hair, and Lucas catches his uncle by the wrist, dark eyes oddly intent and –

And Rob isn’t doing nearly as good a job at forgetting his misplaced attraction to the young man as he strives to convince himself he is.

The fact Lucas keeps wandering around the apartment shirtless or just in his boxers, or clad in a towel after showering, really doesn’t help. The teen’s growing too, not just because of the working out, and that old shirt is too tight on his shoulders now.

“Hey Rob, I need to sketch someone for class,” He’s also decided to take an art elective, seemingly only in order to tell Rob to get back into creating more himself, “Come sit for me and give me some pointers.”

“If you let me finish up drafting this letter after,” Pretending reluctance, Rob leaves off his latest memorandum. His nephew’s also chipping away at his tendency to take work home with him from the charity’s cramped little office.

Really, as housemates, they’re getting on better than perhaps either of them could have expected, given the age difference and the fact they hadn’t seen each other for four years. Rob makes sure to let Lucas know he’s free to bring back anyone he wants to, so long as he lets his uncle know in advance – be it a boyfriend or just friends in order to chill out, although Lucas always insists that –

There’s someone he likes, has been for a long time. He just doesn’t know if the other guy likes him back. Doesn’t know if the other guy would feel able to go for it, even if he did. Some sort of external circumstances there preventing them from just talking about it.

And Rob never tries to wonder. Never wants to feel a pang of – something, when Lucas speaks about this ‘someone’ and bites his lip. Never wants that something to linger in the pit of his belly when Lucas gets close to him and Rob can smell his shampoo all over again in his nephew’s hair, or when Lucas places his hand in the small of Rob’s back as he leans in to get something from the cupboards in the small kitchenette.

It’s inappropriate. It’s _wrong_.

But he still feels it.

So it takes them six months. It takes a lazy sunny day when they’ve got the windows flung open in the attempt to let out the sticky heat and Rob’s got streaks of paint drying on his fingers and wrists, while Lucas sprawls out on the couch and outplays the TV contestants.

“For you,” Rob passes him a lemonade.

“Aw thanks,” Blinking a little as if he’d been half asleep despite his participation in the program, Lucas offers up the most devastating grin as their fingers brush.

Rob’s expression flickers. He _knows_ it and he can’t stop it, and Lucas’ dark eyes widen slightly before narrowing straight after in something like understanding.

“Oh,” he breathes.

“I’d better –” Rob’s already starting to straighten up in order to flee as subtly as possible.

“Hey,” Lucas’ fingers are cool from the glass as he sets it down on the floor and reaches up to touch Rob’s cheek, “Rob?”

It’s not the first time he hasn’t used ‘uncle’. Rob has been trying to get himself accustomed to it for weeks.

“Mm?” He can’t meet Lucas’ eyes; hears him sit up all the same.

“Rob,” Lucas repeats, softer, fingers tucking in closer to curl around Rob’s jaw and under his ear, and something deep inside Rob breaks a little when he looks at the teen despite knowing better.

He finds Lucas’ gaze solemn and almost wistful with a longing that doesn’t seem anywhere young enough for his age, or at least until Lucas tips his head and gives him that grin all over again.

He doesn’t ask if he can kiss him. Lucas just pushes himself up enough to graze his lips against Rob’s jaw, against his cheek, against the corner of his lips until there becomes no way Rob can excuse away what he’s doing – what _they’re_ doing –

“ _Lucas_ ,” Closing his eyes as if that will make it all right, he clutches at Lucas desperately, his nephew’s arms coming up around his shoulders, Rob’s hands sliding down to bracket his waist. He can’t – he can’t –

“We should stop,” It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to make himself say.

“No way,” Lucas is red-faced, sweating a little already, his gaze bright and brilliant, “Rob, I’ve wanted you since I was _thirteen_. You’re not taking this away from me now I’ve finally, _finally_ –” He falters, cutting himself off with an effort, biting his lip, “Unless – you don’t want to?”

“I –” Rob can’t lie to him. Won’t lie to him. Should. He wrenches a deep breath in, “I do.” Holds a hand up to forestall him when Lucas goes to exclaim jubilantly, “That doesn’t make it a good idea.”

“Rob,” Struggling to sit up properly on the couch, Lucas frames his uncle’s face with his hands. Big hands – a man’s hands now. Strength in them, and certainty, “You’re the best looking man I’ve ever met, and the kindest all round. But don’t you dare go thinking you’re taking advantage of me.”

Rob has to whisper this, the words rough with emotion, “How can I not?”

“Just – believe me,” Lucas leans in to brush his mouth over Rob’s forehead, “Trust me. You and me? We’re going to work out.”

Unable to let Lucas go even though he knows he ought to, Rob finds that he can chuckle a little, although it’s a bit watery, “We are?”

“Yeah,” Lucas kisses him again and Rob doesn’t pull back, “We are.”

“Well then,” What can Rob do but believe him, despite his guilt? Cupping Lucas’ cheek, he finally – _finally_ – lets himself kiss the other man as he’s wanted to for so long.

“ _Mm_ ,” Grinning fit to burst, Lucas grapples with him, play fighting a little as their mouths move together, fingers already working at Rob’s buttons as he encourages his uncle to climb up onto the couch. Pulls Rob down against him moments after, bucking up himself.

“Shit –” Rob has to pull away, panting, at the feeling of hardness against his hip.

“Yeah?” Lucas runs a hand down Rob’s back, rolls up against the older man a bit, “Rob, please – _please_ –”

“ _Shit_ ,” Rob doesn’t usually swear, but he can’t help it, fumbling Lucas’ jeans open with unsteady fingers to free his cock.

It’s a good size, lovely girth, fits _perfectly_ into his hand. He gets Lucas whining and gasping, dark eyes wide and hands clutching at the couch after a few minutes of pumping him, rolling the younger man’s balls in his hand. Swiping his thumb over the round head of Lucas’ cock, pulling him back in for a kiss at the same time.

“Rob – R-Rob – _ah_ –” Lucas nudges him away before it’s over, the younger man shaking hard, “Come on, come on – let me fuck you, or you fuck me, or – both, either, I just want to, you choose –”

Well, if they’re going to do this, they might as well _do_ it.

“Both,” Grinning, Rob tugs at Lucas’ cock just to make him squirm and gasp out a laugh, “I choose both. But first –”

Sliding off the couch, he starts to make his way down Lucas’ body, moving aside clothes as he goes, humming appreciatively as Lucas yanks them off over his head.

“First,” Rob presses a kiss to the head of Lucas’ cock, relishing his start and breathless curse, “I want to use my mouth.”

“Fuuuck, do that, do that please,” Rather as expected, Lucas has absolutely no objection and so, grinning, Rob does just that, using lips and tongue as enthusiastically as he never dared even imagine he would. Slowly to begin with, getting them both used to the sensation, concentrating on the little whines Lucas makes and the way his stomach tenses. The taste of him growing ever stronger against Rob’s tongue, his mouth watering with it. Running his lips over the sensitive crown before sucking at it, taking him in deeper each time he sinks down, Rob moaning a little himself at just how good it all is.

But feeling Lucas shake and come undone in his mouth?

It feels _fucking fantastic_.

They tumble onto the floor together afterwards, Rob near losing the ability to think at the feel of their bodies pressing together, turning Lucas over beneath him so he can kiss and nip the nape of Lucas’ neck, and down the length of his spine to his ass. Peeling himself reluctantly away in order to stumble off to get lube, then working his fingers and then his cock within the younger man’s body, all of his guilt and fear and longing tanged up inside him –

It feels like the best thing Rob has ever done.

“ _Rob! Ahhh –!_ ” Lucas is grasping at him, pushing at him, chuckling between gasps, bracing his feet on the floor to get a better angle before wrapping his legs around Rob’s waist. Resting his weight on his elbow, Rob slides a hand under Lucas’ ass to support him and thrusts gradually deeper, speeding up until he's driving into Lucas, the younger man urging him on all the while. Close to trembling with everything that he’s feeling –

Overwhelmed by what is undoubtedly love.

“Lu- Lucas _– hah!_ ” Rob gets Lucas to come a second time like that, before spilling into the hot, straining body himself. Collapsing together on the floor for a long minute before realising they knocked over the lemonade at some point, something they can’t help but laugh about. Resting his head on the crook of Lucas’ shoulder, Rob allows himself to hold his nephew as he so longs to; wrapping his arms around him and listening to the thump of his heart.

For all their size and strength, Lucas’ hands are tender in Rob’s hair, threading through auburn strands that glow red-gold in the sunlight.

“Hey Rob,” he starts once their breathing has gone back to normal. There’s a touch of hesitation in his tone, but not nearly as much as there is determination, “Please don’t tell me you’re regretting it. Because that was the best sex of my life.”

“Hm?” Rob’s unable to keep himself from pushing his head up into the touch. Stymied a little by the answer welling inside him, demanding to be said. Because he _should_ be regretting it. They both should. Instead he’s just wondering how soon he can get that glorious cock in his ass. “Actually, I’ve got a feeling you were right. That things _are_ going to work out. Between us.”

Somehow. Please. Please let them work out.

“Oh?” One look at Lucas' massive smile and dancing eyes confirms just how immensely delighted he is, “You think so, do you?”

“I do,” Rob lets himself firmly nod, “So am I regretting it? No.” 

And he isn’t, and everything about Lucas is proclaiming that he isn’t regretting it either.

They’re really not.


End file.
